I meant to expound on this topic a little more before & got caught up in a whirlwind of im convos instead. God Fucking Damn - I should be alone in the office everyday - just think of how anti-productive, yet thoroughly self-analyzed & pop-culturely aware I would be!

So back to the passive aggressive tendencies in the blog.... part of that is not being able to say what I want to say out loud. Now this in particular is a concept that I've been struggling with since about the dawn of puberty. Have you ever noticed that there's some sort or hush hush law about that? You hit 13 or so and all of a sudden you're not allowed to jut say whatever is on your mind anymore... now there are all these "rules" about what you can say and who you can say it too - and suddenly the the thought of telling a boy you like him is horrifying and requires at least three of your best friends and two of his to delicately impart this information which inevitably gets distributed to the ENTIRE class anyways. This might evolve a little over the course of high school and college - but in reality, it still boils down to the concept of "god forbid you actually are straight about your feelings / don't you dare open your mouth to express yourself at the exact moment you'd like to". This is why that stupid book "The Rules" got made - this is why people go on and on about wanting someone "who doesn't play games"... but you know what? You might as well start looking for a unicorn. Everyone is playing the game. Everyone is thinking things that they'll never say, everyone is carefully shielding their cards from everyone else until the moment is right - it's universal, and it's partially about emotional survival. I mean - can you imagine if we all went around with our hearts on our sleeves everyday of our lives? It would be a massacre! Romantic carnage the likes of which haven't been seen since... well, Junior High School!!! No wonder the rules started to change back then.

But I'm indignant. I don't like to play by the rules. I like to bust out with confessions even when I know I'm gong to get pummeled - I say a good 75% of what I want to say in an open forum and I pay the consequences for those words. You'd think that by now I'd get it. I'd understand that the rules and gags and all the constant stifling are for my own good. But every now and then I open my mouth - fully expecting to choke on a wall of water from yet another crashing wave - and somehow? I don't. And it works out the way it's supposed to. Where you bare your soul to someone and.... they GET it. And what's more? They appreciate your honesty and it magically makes things a little bit brighter, a little bit better, and a whole lot easier to be yourself. And for this I'm applauded by friends who think it's incredibly brave to be able to put myself out there in the way that I do, but really? It's insanity. It's a compulsion. Because 9 times out of 10 that sea wall is coming crashing down on my head, and talking myself out of half the things I say ahead of time seems like a much better alternative than trying to pick up the pieces after another round of "true confessions". And it's this combination of things - my compulsion give my heart a voice and my instinct to protect it that lead to my passive aggressive tendencies... tossing out tiny jabs and dangling vaguely familiar clues in to get it all out there, leaving myself loopholes the size of texas to jump out of when things start getting too close for comfort.

I'm going to take my psycho analysis one step deeper and fixate on my compulsive need to say these things - what's on my mind, whats in my heart are one thing, but why go further? Why go that extra mile and push buttons I know shouln't be pushed? I want the reaction. I push, and when I don't get one, I push harder. Apathy is my greatest nightmare. If you don't react, then you must not care... right? And at the bottom of it all, here I am - just like everybody else, desperately seeking approval, furiously searching for love. If I can't trigger your affection, at least I can get you to yell or scream or strike out at me - pretty pathetic, I know... thank the lord I haven't found a boy who likes to hit women eh? Part of me knows exactly why I am this way: willing to accept ire as love, fanning the flames of drama, pushing and striving for a reaction, for the attention... and part of me wonders if I realize all of this about myself - why can't I change it? This is the part of me that thinks I ought to be heading back to therapy one of these days...

But hey, in the meantime - this blog is really doing wonders for my self-awareness, dontcha think?

I SWEAR that's the last of the heavy posts for the time being.

Polly Jean at the Knit tonight, gimme a shout out on the cell if you want to hang afterwards - I'll be around.

if you could read my mind: restless

if music be the food of love, play on...:Alanis Morissette - All I Really Want